


Remember Me?

by hotcocoa



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Amnesia, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Major Character Injury, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-17
Updated: 2016-10-28
Packaged: 2018-07-15 13:01:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7223332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hotcocoa/pseuds/hotcocoa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matsukawa just wants to come home to his loving boyfriends after a long day at work. Instead, he's confronted with the accusation that he's fallen out of love with them, which leaves him hurt and upset. How could they think that?</p><p>Matsukawa could never fall out of love with them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dear Tomorrow

**Author's Note:**

> yo this is Jamie and this is a new project rose and I are working on. I'll be writing this chapter, she'll write the next one, and we'll go back and forth on writing the chapters. I hope you enjoy :D

Matsukawa drags his feet against the floor, a loud yawn escaping his lips. He grabs the railing leading up the stairs, eyes narrowing in distaste. His job has him working later now-a-days, plus he’s been taking extra shifts, _and_ he has university to attend. To say he’s exhausted is an understatement.

Making his way up the stairs slowly, Matsukawa slumps his body forward. He stopped at some corner store to get dinner since he was coming home so late so at least he won’t need to worry about that-

But it’ll all be worth it. He’s working so hard, taking all these extra shifts for a reason.

Slowly trudging up the stairs, Matsukawa feels his eyes grow heavier and heavier. Sleep is so close...yet so far...he just wants to sleep forever and wake up and have no responsibilities.

He stops whining about everything in his head once he reaches apartment 420. Digging around in his pocket, his fingers brush over the metal of the key. Slipping it out of his pocket, he moves to unlock the door.

Only to stop in his movements when he hears voices floating through the closed door.

“—said he’d be back an hour ago.”

“—alm down, ok?—ably has a good excus—”

“—isn’t like him.”

Rolling his eyes, Matsukawa quickly slips his key into the keyhole, twisting it quietly. He may only get snippets of the conversation, but it’s not too hard to figure out what they are saying- and who they’re talking about.

Pushing the door open, Matsukawa shuffles in. Closing the door behind him, he gently toes his shoes off and tugs off his jacket. He can feel three different pairs of eyes burning holes into his back, but he promptly ignores it as he hangs up his jacket. He then turns around, finally meeting their gaze.

“Huh?” he asks, stepping into the small hallway and making his way into the living room. They all are wearing different looks- Oikawa is biting his lip, nervously looking away. Hanamaki looks as if he’ll start crying any moment, and Iwaizumi is gritting his teeth, hands clenched tightly at his sides.

This, really, isn’t what Matsukawa was expecting to come home to.

He casually leans against the wall, arms crossed over his chest as he waits for one of them to speak. He knows something’s wrong. But what, that’s the thing he doesn’t know.

Multiple things could be wrong. They could have a problem with his long hours. They could have a problem with him sleeping in the separate bedroom- but he does that because usually he comes home late and he doesn’t want to wake any of them up. Maybe they have a problem with him only coming home to sleep, and leaving when the clock strikes eight in the morning? Even on weekends? But, it’s all for them- although of course they don’t know that yet. Matsukawa sees how his behavior could be taken badly, but his boyfriends trust him, right? And anyway, if that was really the problem, they would have said something to him before now...wouldn’t they?

“Well? What’s on your mind?” he asks, tilting his head to the side, raising an eyebrow in question.

The three all glance at each other, and Matsukawa can tell what they’re doing. They’re trying to decide who should speak. But Matsukawa knows that they’ll push Hanamaki forward, make him speak first. Hanamaki is the one who knows him better, seeing as how they’ve been friends since they were four. They never keep things from each other-

Maybe that’s why Makki looks so upset? He has been keeping this whole surprise a secret, so maybe they’re thinking something bad? But...that couldn’t be right. They know he doesn’t keep things to himself unless it’s one hundred percent necessary.

“Issei,” Hanamaki finally chokes out, taking a small step forward. He nervously wrings his hands together, gnawing on his bottom lip. He refuses to meet Matsukawa’s eye.

“W-we understand...i-if...” He trails off, and Matsukawa watches as tears well up in his eyes. Panic settles in Matsukawa’s chest, and he quickly pushes himself off the wall, confusion swirling in his gaze.

“Understand? Understand what, Taka?”

Hanamaki angrily rubs his eyes with his fists, straightening his spine out. Iwaizumi gently places a comforting hand to his shoulder, squeezing gently in a way to say ‘you can do this.’

“We understand if you...” He freezes, eyes closing as he takes a deep breath, “If you’ve fallen out of love, or something. If you don’t love us a-anymore. B-but please, Issei, please- don’t...don’t lead us on...”

Matsukawa freezes, his blood running cold. What? What does he mean? Fallen out of love? He’s doing all this extra work for _them!_ How- what? How could they just...come to that conclusion?

“Do you really have so little faith in me?” Matsukawa asks, frowning slightly, hurt evident in his eyes.

“That’s not it!” Oikawa speaks up, unshed tears shining in his eyes.

Matsukawa raises an eyebrow, waiting for them to elaborate.

“You’ve been...distant. We barely see you now-a-days. You are always on your phone when we see you, and you’re always taking extra shifts at your job...and...we don’t know what to think, Issei,” Iwaizumi says, taking control of the situation. It’s obvious Oikawa and Hanamaki can’t continue without breaking down into tears.

Matsukawa scowls, taking a step away from them, eyeing the front door. “I did that for a reason-”

“If that reason is to spare our feelings and to just lead us on, then that’s _not_ right!” Hanamaki says, eyes suddenly alight with anger.

“No!” Matsukawa snaps, running a distressed hand through his hair. What the fuck? Is this really happening? “I’m not an _asshole-”_

“Then why?” Oikawa’s quiet voice asks, bottom lip wobbling as he tries to keep himself from breaking.

“Because our anniversary is coming up in two weeks and I’ve been saving up to take you all to that ski resort you were begging to go to!” he snaps harshly, eyes narrowed.

The three fall silent, eyes wide. Slowly, each of them look away, guilt spreading across their faces.

Good. They _should_ feel guilty.

Matsukawa huffs, a look of betrayal filtering across his face. “Look, I’m sorry for being distant or whatever, that wasn’t my intention. But if you really think I’d lead you all on like that, then fuck you guys. I’m too tired to deal with this shit.”

“I-Issei-” Oikawa tries, but Matsukawa shuts him up with a look of hurt and betrayal mixed with disbelief.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” he mumbles, making his way back to the door. He slips his shoes on with ease, throwing the door open so hard it slams against the wall.

“Issei, just don’t go!” Hanamaki pleads, lunging across the room to grab his sleeve.

Matsukawa pauses for a moment before yanking his arm back, shaking his head, “I think I want to be alone.”

“Haven’t you had enough alone time these past few weeks?!” Hanamaki hisses, venom laced in his voice.

Matsukawa stares at him, eyes wide. “How _dare_ you-”

_“It’s the truth!”_ Hanamaki snaps.

“Well maybe I _like_ being alone!” Matsukawa shoots back, taking a step backwards towards the open front door. He ignores Oikawa’s small gasp and Hanamaki’s small whimper of disbelief. Without another word, he stalks out of the room.

As he makes his way down the stairs, his mind overflows with thoughts.

How dare they think that way about him? They should know he loves him. They should know he would do anything for them. They should know that they mean the world to him-

Stepping out into the night, he angrily walks towards the crosswalk. Who even needs Hanamaki, or Iwaizumi, or Oikawa anyways? Who needs warm arms around his waist, a head tucked under his chin as they snuggle on the couch? Who needs a gentle kiss in the morning before they make their way to university?

He doesn’t realize he’s stopped in the middle of the crosswalk, because it suddenly hits him full force. He needs to go back and apologize for blowing up, because he reacted out of exhaustion and hurt but loves them so so much, and they need to understand that-

“Issei!”

He slowly turns around, eyes landing on Hanamaki running out of the apartment complex.

Taking a step back towards him, Matsukawa changes his course to head back to the apartment.

“I’m sor-” he starts to yell, only for his eyes to grow wide, body violently flung to the side as a car comes barreling out of nowhere.


	2. Stuck in the Light of Day, Waiting for Answers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanamaki refuses to leave Matsukawa's side. His family is always there to support him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so everyone knows, we're not usually going to be updating this quickly. In fact, Jamie's going to be away for a week after this so the next update won't be till then. Feel free to yell at us in the meanwhile. [[title insp](http://lyrics.wikia.com/wiki/Epica:Canvas_Of_Life)]

Hanamaki screams. He screams and screams and doesn’t stop screaming because this can’t be happening, this isn’t happening, but the sight of Matsukawa crumpled on the ground as the car  _ fucking drives away _ says otherwise. So Hanamaki screams.

Iwaizumi and Oikawa appear behind him a split second later. Oikawa lets out a strangled cry and makes to run towards Matsukawa. Iwaizumi holds him back.

“Take care of Takahiro,” he says in a quiet voice before taking off towards Matsukawa himself.

Oikawa turns towards Hanamaki with tears and panic in his eyes. He grabs Hanamaki by the shoulders and tries to soothe him. “Shh, Hiro, shh, it’s—it’s gonna be okay,” he says, hating the fact that he knows he might be lying. He pulls Hanamaki into his chest and Hanamaki just screams into his shoulder. “Shh, it’s okay, it’s okay, please stop screaming, baby, please—” He breaks down crying and they’re both sobbing as their world is crashing down around them.

“I have to go see him,” Hanamaki says is a hoarse but firm voice. “I have to—I have to see—” He cuts himself off by choking on his own sobs.

Oikawa grips Hanamaki tighter, hesitating as he thinks of Iwaizumi’s reaction when he made to move towards Matsukawa. “Let Hajime take care of it,” he says softly, knowing already how Hanamaki will react.

“I have to fucking see him,” Hanamaki hisses, breaking out of Oikawa’s grip around his torso.

“Takahiro, please,” Oikawa begs, but instead of stopping Hanamaki he’s chasing him until they’re standing over Matsukawa and Hajime kneeling next to him with a phone to his ear and  _ oh god. _

Matsukawa is clearly unconscious, his hair is matted with blood. His pale skin is a stark contrast against the raw red surface of his arm where there  _ is _ no skin. His jeans are ripped and torn and his knee is bent in a way that it is definitely  _ not _ meant to be bent and Hanamaki’s getting tunnel vision and he thinks he’s going to throw up—

Oikawa catches him as he blacks out.

 

* * *

When Hanamaki comes to, it’s with his head in Oikawa’s lap as Iwaizumi clutches the steering wheel, racing down the road with no regard for the speed limit.

“Oh thank god,” Oikawa breathes in relief as Hanamaki blinks his eyes and slowly sits up.

“What…what’s happening?” he asks blearily, then suddenly shoots forward, scrambling around aimlessly in panic. “Where’s Issei?!”

“They wouldn’t let us ride in the ambulance with him,” Oikawa says tersely, pulling Hanamaki back against the seat and lacing their fingers together. “We—we don’t know how he is,” he chokes out.

Iwaizumi doesn’t say anything, just presses his foot down harder against the gas pedal and fixes his steely gaze on the road.

They fly into the hospital drive and don’t even bother to park properly, screeching to a halt in front of the emergency room and tumbling out of the car.

Hanamaki is the first to reach the reception desk. “Matsukawa Issei,” he says breathlessly, “is he okay?”

The nurse at the desk looks at him in alarm. “I-I’m sorry,” she says, “I’m not allowed to disclose information about patients to anyone except family members.”

Hanamaki slams his fist on the desk and swears. Oikawa pulls him away from the poor nurse and rubs Hanamaki’s arm soothingly. “I-It’s okay, Hiro, I called Issei’s parents and they should be here soon,” he says in what he hopes is a reassuring voice. Hanamaki is too busy crying to reply, so his boyfriends gently guide him over to the seats and hold his hands, one on either side of him. At one point Iwaizumi leaves to go park the car properly, but when he comes back he slips his hand right back into Hanamaki’s. He and Oikawa speak across him in hushed whispers. Hanamaki isn’t really listening.

He finally looks up when Oikawa nudges his shoulder, pointing to the counter where two familiar figures are talking to the nurse behind the desk. Hanamaki almost falls out of his chair as he scrambles over to them.

“Matsukawa-san,” he says breathlessly, “Matsukawa-san. How is he?”

Matsukawa’s mother embraces him with tears in her eyes. “Takahiro,” she says. “Thank god you were there. They—they said they don’t know much yet—the doctor will call us in when they know more.” She pulls back and stiffens as she sees Oikawa and Iwaizumi coming up behind him.

“Oikawa-kun. Iwaizumi-kun,” she nods at them. “Thank you…for being there for our son.”

Iwaizumi nods curtly and Oikawa nods enthusiastically. Matsukawa’s mother, deciding she’s done what she needs to do to be polite, turns and goes to sit down close to the door through which the doctor would enter the waiting room. Hanamaki looks at his boyfriends apologetically, squeezing their hands before he goes to sit down next to her. Iwaizumi and Oikawa sit down on his other side, holding each other’s hands tightly.

No one speaks. The silence is tense. Oikawa starts crying again and Hanamaki just stares at the floor numbly.

When a voice calls out softly, “Matsukawa Issei?”, it’s like they’re all snapped out of a trace. Every member of Matsukawa’s family jumps to their feet, immediately surrounding the doctor who holds their hearts in her hands.

The doctor clears her throat softly. “Matsukawa Issei is in critical but stable condition,” she reports. The faces around her pale.

“What does that mean?” his father asks.

“Well…he’ll live, but he has head trauma, two fractured ribs, and serious abrasions on his right arm,” she explains tersely. Matsukawa’s mother lets out a sob. “His left knee was also dislocated. The head trauma may have further complications…he wasn’t responding to any kind of stimuli when he was brought it in, so he may be comatose, but he’s currently heavily sedated so there’s no way to know until the drugs wear off. We’ve done a series of tests that may help us diagnose any complications resulting from the head trauma.”

“Can we see him now?” his mother pleads in a broken voice.

“He’s still unconscious, but yes, you may visit his room,” the doctor says. She eyes the group of people surrounding her and adds somewhat guiltily, “We only allow four visitors at a time, though.”

“Hiro, go,” Oikawa urges immediately. “Hajime and I can wait our turn.”

Hanamaki looks at them with a mixture of gratefulness and guilt. “I’ll text you,” he promises, squeezing their hands before he quickly follows Matsukawa’s parents down the hallway.

The doctor turns into a room towards the end of the hall and holds the door open for them.

Hanamaki almost stops breathing when he sees Matsukawa laying in the hospital bed, hooked up to tubes and wires and beeping machines, his head and arm covered in gauze, a large splint wrapped around his left leg. A strangled noise leaves his throat and he clutches the side of the bed. “Issei,” he sobs, echoing Matsukawa’s mother’s own cries to her unconscious son. Matsukawa’s father stands with his arm around her, tears shining in his eyes.

After allowing them a few minutes alone, the doctor comes back and starts explaining the details of Matsukawa’s condition. Hanamaki listens without looking away from Matsukawa’s face. “When will he wake up?” he asks quietly.

The doctor sighs. “The sedatives should wear off in a few hours,” she replies, “but I can’t guarantee that he’ll wake up immediately. If he’s still not awake six hours from now, we’ll do some more stimulation tests to determine whether or not he’s comatose. Until then, all we can do is let him rest so his body can start to heal.”

Hanamaki nods resignedly and the exhaustion hits him all at once as the doctor sweeps out of the room. He collapses into a chair and pulls out his phone to text his boyfriends and relay what he can remember of the doctor’s report.

_ Can we come see him? _ Oikawa asks. Hanamaki closes his eyes and sighs. When he opens them, he glances at Matsukawa, whose eyes are still closed as his chest rises evenly, if shallowly, up and down, and then back down to his phone.  _ Yeah, _ he texts back,  _ I’ll come meet you guys in the waiting rm. _

He clears his throat and Matsukawa’s parents look over at him. “I’m going to go get Hajime and Tooru,” he says. Matsukawa’s mother purses her lips, but she doesn’t say anything. Hanamaki takes that as a sign that she won’t kick them out.  _ Thank god. _

He finds his way back to the waiting room where Oikawa throws his arms around Hanamaki’s neck. “Thank you for waiting,” Hanamaki says quietly as he pulls back and turns to lead the way to Matsukawa’s room.

Oikawa squeezes his hand. “Of course,” he says sincerely, “but thank god we get to see him now.” His voice cracks and Iwaizumi squeezes his other hand tightly.

“This is his room,” Hanamaki says, gesturing when they reach it. He glances at the bench a couple meters down the hall. “I’ll just…wait out here.”

Oikawa squeezes his hand again. “Thank you, Hiro,” he says, giving him a quick peck on cheek before rushing into the room.

Iwaizumi pauses with his hand still holding Hanamaki’s. “You okay?” he asks softly.

Hanamaki shrugs helplessly. “I don’t—” He stops, blinking back tears. “They don’t know if he’ll wake up, Hajime,” he says, his voice breaking as tears overwhelm him yet again. Iwaizumi swiftly pulls him into a hug.

“Tooru and I can take turns, you know,” he offers. Hanamaki shakes his head.

“He needs you,” Hanamaki says, pulling away. “Go on, I’ll be alright.”

Iwaizumi looks at him worriedly before turning to follow Oikawa into the room. “I’ll be back soon,” he promises. Hanamaki nods.

He collapses on the bench and buries his head in his hands. The minutes crawl by and his stomach clenches uncomfortably.  _ This is all my fault, _ he thinks desperately.  _ If I hadn’t been so  _ stupid _ …god, he’s been working so hard, for  _ us,  _ and I just… _ He grits his teeth, tears streaming down his face.  _ This is my fault! _

“Hey.” Hanamaki snaps out of his thoughts and looks up to see Iwaizumi glaring down at him. “I can practically hear you blaming yourself, so stop that.” Hanamaki opens his mouth to argue but Iwaizumi cuts him off. “This is no one’s fault except that  _ fucking _ driver,” he spits, his eyes glowing with rage. “If I ever find out who that cowardly son of a bitch is, I’m going to—”

“Please don’t get arrested, Hajime,” Hanamaki says weakly, tugging him down to sit next to him. Iwaizumi is still fuming, but Hanamaki can see the tears in his eyes.

“How could he just—Issei—he looks so—” Iwaizumi chokes on a sob and Hanamaki pulls him against his chest.

“I know,” he whispers. “I know.”

 

* * *

Hanamaki is playing with his phone while Oikawa and Iwaizumi sit on the other side of the bed, whispering something about going to get food. The two of them have been sort of trading shifts with Matsukawa’s parents, occasionally going home to get a change of clothes, some real food, and a proper rest.

Hanamaki hasn’t left.

It’s been two days, and it’s not that his boyfriends haven’t  _ tried _ to get him to go home—Iwaizumi even had him over his shoulder at one point, ready to physically carry him out to the car, until Hanamaki had a panic attack and they quickly gave up on trying to make him leave. Iwaizumi still feels guilty as hell about it and keeps bringing Hanamaki cream puffs every time he leaves to go get food.

Oikawa’s eyes suddenly light up and Hanamaki raises his eyebrow curiously, following Oikawa’s gaze to the door. He blinks in surprise.

Crammed in the doorway are Kindaichi, Kunimi, Kyoutani, Yahaba, and Watari. All of their faces bear concerned expressions as they crane over each other in an attempt to see inside the room.

“I’m so glad you came!” Oikawa cries emotionally as he flings himself at the nearest person, who, much to the victim’s dismay, happens to be Kunimi. “I know Issei would be so glad that you’re here…”

“Can we come in?” Watari asks anxiously. Oikawa glances back into the room.

“Uh…well, there’s only four people allowed at a time,” he says, “so why don’t two of you go ahead in, and Oikawa-san will entertain everyone in the hall!” he adds with a wink.

“Three of them can stay, Oikawa, I’ll go with you,” Iwaizumi volunteers, standing up. Hanamaki looks at him guiltily. Iwaizumi ruffles his hair as an act of reassurance as he walks by.

Kindaichi volunteers to wait in the hallway and Kunimi shrugs in agreement. Oikawa and Iwaizumi usher them into the hall while Yahaba, Watari, and Kyoutani crowd around the bed.

“How is he?” Yahaba asks quietly.

“Comatose,” Hanamaki says numbly. “They don’t know when—i-if he’ll wake up.” The three of them stare at him in a mixture of horror and pity.

“How are you holding up?” Watari asks kindly.

Hanamaki laughs humorlessly. “I don’t know if I am?” he admits. “If anything, I’m being held up by those two.” He jerks his head towards the hall, then lowers his voice. “I don’t know what we’ll do without him.”

“I’m sure it’ll be okay,” Yahaba says, offering a tentative smile. “Matsukawa-san loves you three too much to just leave you.”

“I hope so,” Hanamaki whispers.

Watari leans his head on his hand and stares at Matsukawa thoughtfully. “I remember the first time I met Matsukawa-san,” he says. “It was the first day of volleyball practice and I was so much shorter than everyone else. And then, the tallest guy on the team comes over to me, and I’m terrified of course, and then he just speaks to me in the gentlest voice asking if I can help him with receives. Me! A first year! Being asked by someone almost 18 centimeters taller than me for help playing volleyball!” He laughs softly. “Matsukawa-san was always my favorite senpai. Sorry, Hanamaki-san,” he adds quickly, throwing Hanamaki a guilty look.

Hanamaki laughs it off. “Anyone would’ve been out of their mind to choose me as their favorite senpai,” he says honestly. “And don’t even try to say anything, Yahaba, I know Tooru is your favorite,” he adds warningly when Yahaba looks as if he might say something. Yahaba blushes.

“Matsukawa-san was actually the first person to suggest captaincy to me,” Yahaba says quietly after a minute of gazing down at him. “It was the beginning of my second year, and no one was even thinking about the switch yet, but Matsukawa-san said it might be a good idea to start thinking about it. And honestly…I think that’s what made me into a captain. I might not have been chosen if I hadn’t started considering it when I did. It shaped how I trained that year, how I grew. I think, when Oikawa-san finally saw something in me…it developed because of what Matsukawa-san said.” Yahaba shakes his head in wonder. “He’s a really amazing guy.”

Kyoutani grunts in agreement. “He was the only one who didn’t make a big deal out of it when I came back that year,” he admits. “It helped me.”

Hanamaki smiles, a bittersweet feeling aching in chest.  _ So many people love you, Issei, _ he thinks desperately.  _ You have to come back… _

They chatter idly for a few more minutes before Yahaba offers to let Kindaichi and Kunimi take their place. “Kentarou’s dying to ogle Iwaizumi-san’s muscles, anyway,” he teases, earning him a scowl from Kyoutani.

“If you’re jealous, then maybe you should work out more often,” he snaps as he follows him out of the room.

Watari rolls his eyes. “Sorry for them,” he says quickly as he chases after the people in question.

Hanamaki sighs into the silence left between visitors.  _ I guess second year was an important year for them, _ he thinks, reflecting on the memories they had shared. Of course, he thinks to himself with a smile, second year was an important year for the four of them, too.

“Pardon the interruption!” Kindaichi cries as he enters the room with Kyoutani close behind him. Hanamaki smiles at them wanly.

“Kindaichi-kun, Kunimi-kun, how are you?” he asks. They murmur their polite responses and inquire about Matsukawa. Their visit is quieter and altogether shorter, given Kindaichi’s nervousness and Kunimi’s reserved nature, and Hanamaki follows them into the hall so he can thank them all properly.

“Oh, and we heard that you haven’t left the hospital, so we brought you some real food,” Yahaba says before they leave, handing Hanamaki a heavenly-smelling bag. He grins as Hanamaki peeks in it. “Kentarou made the cream puffs himself.” He yelps as Kyoutani kicks his ankle and mutters something that sounds suspiciously like “you said you wouldn’t tell them!” Watari pats Kyoutani’s shoulder consolingly.

Oikawa hugs everyone before sending them off and warning Kindaichi that he’ll know if he’s slacking off as a captain.

Finally, he gives Hanamaki a hug and pulls back to look at him wearily. “Are you doing okay?” he asks softly.

Hanamaki shrugs. “Same as you,” he says. Oikawa smiles at him sympathetically.

They shuffle back into the room and immediately freeze.

And then all start talking at once.

“ISSEI!”

“Oh, my god, Issei, thank god—”

Hanamaki is sobbing as he throws his arms around his boyfriend, who is now  _ blinking _ at them in confusion which is wonderful because his eyes are open and awake—

“Um,” Matsukawa says as Hanamaki pulls back, and they’ve never heard a sound more beautiful in their lives,

“I’m sorry, but who are you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If it makes you feel any better, I hate myself, too.


	3. This Sorrow Takes a Hold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matsukawa is awake, which is a good thing. But when the horrid truth of his injuries are revealed, the three find themselves at a loss for what to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Hey Heyyyyy guess who's back from vacation? Me :D  
> Anyways, the title for this chapter is from 'Falling Inside the Black' by Skillet (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧

All three go deadly silent. You could probably hear a feather fall to the ground with how quiet they become. 

 

“Um…” Matsukawa awkwardly looks around the room, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “What happened…?”

 

Oikawa opens his mouth to answer, to say something-  _ anything-  _ but only a strangled sob escapes his lips. Hanamaki blindly reaches his hand out until he grabs the fabric of Iwaizumi’s sleeve, violently gripping onto the sleeve as if it’s some sort of life line. 

 

“Issei,” he laughs, voice strained, “are you serious?” 

 

"I'm sorry, but are we on first-name basis?" he asks in confusion. He looks around the room, desperately trying to find some recognizable face. When he finds none, he grips the sheets in fear, knuckles turning white.

 

“I-Issei,” Iwaizumi tries, taking a deep breath. “If this is some sort of  _ game  _ to you-”

 

“Game? Why would I play any games with you? I don’t even  _ know  _ you.”

 

The words him hit like a bullet to the heart. Iwaizumi stiffens, eyes growing wide as the reality of the situation finally wraps tightly around his mind. He scrunches his face up, rapidly blinking to keep the tears at bay- because no. No. This is  _ not  _ happening. He doesn’t even care if Matsukawa  _ is  _ playing some joke on them now. He’s okay, he remembers them, and everything will be fine-

 

But the terrified and panicked look Matsukawa wears tells him the truth. 

 

Just like that, he stops being the strong pillar they all know him as. He lets the tears slip out, rolling down his cheeks silently as his shoulders begin the shake. He cracks, slumping forward to hide his face in his hands. 

 

_ No, no, no, no, no, nonononononono- _

 

The warm arm that wraps around his shoulders, tugging him against them, does nothing but make him cry harder. 

 

“Um,” Iwaizumi doesn't move from Hanamaki’s grasp as that familiar voice fills their ears, “here you go.” 

 

Hanamaki lets Iwaizumi go, both of them surprised to see Matsukawa holding out a box of tissues. This causes Oikawa to place a hand over his mouth, eyes threatening to spill at any moment. 

 

Even when Matsukawa doesn’t recognize them, he still worries enough to give them fucking  _ tissues.  _ Who’s nice enough to give strangers tissues? 

 

After a very tense moment where they all just stare at Matsukawa, Iwaizumi slowly reaches out to take the offered box. “Um, thank you,” he whispers, voice hoarse as he quickly looks away. 

 

They fall into another awkward silence, none of them knowing what to say. Because, really, what is one to say when someone you love  _ forgets  _ you? Are they supposed to pretend they don’t know him? Should they leave to get a doctor? What...are they supposed to do? 

 

_ “Issei!”  _

 

Matsukawa jumps in surprise, watching as his mother barrels into the room, literally shoving Oikawa and Iwaizumi out of the way to throw her arms around her son. His father walks in, face slowly morphing into one of relief mixed with shock as his gaze lands on their son- who is  _ awake  _ and  _ smiling  _ at them. 

 

He walks past Oikawa and Iwaizumi, standing beside Hanamaki as he smiles softly at his son. “How are you feeling?”

 

“Very confused.”

 

“Well,” his father laughs, “that’s to be expected. You’ve been out for two days.” 

 

Matsukawa frowns, tilting his head slightly. That would explain the stubble on his chin, and why his hair feels sort of greasy. But what that  _ doesn’t  _ explain was why his head hurts. Or why he has bandages wrapped snugly around his head. Or why his knee and arm really fucking hurt. Or why there are three strangers  _ sobbing  _ in his room. Or why one of those strangers  _ hugged  _ him. 

 

His mom instantly notices his discomfort. “What’s wrong? Does something hurt? Should I call in the docto-”

 

“No, no,” Matsukawa cuts her off, “I’m just…” he trails off to glance at the three strangers in the room. “I don’t...feel comfortable.”

 

“Do you need another pillow? Should I go get one? I think they have some extra ones around here somewhere. Oh! Is it because you’re hungry? I’m sure they’d give you some food. Or is it because of your knee? Your head? Your arm-”

 

“No, mom, it’s. Just.” He waves his good arm out towards Hanamaki, Iwaizumi, and Oikawa. 

 

“I don’t feel comfortable having strangers that obviously don’t work here in my room.” 

 

His mother instantly freezes, eyes growing wide. His father takes a small step back, placing a hand over his mouth. 

 

“Issei,” his father says gently, “what do you mean by strangers?” 

 

Matsukawa nervously looks towards the other three in the room before slowly looking back at his parents. “Um, I’m talking about the three people in this room who I’m not related to.” 

 

“Issei, sweetie,” his mother whispers, gently reaching out to take one of his hands. “Do you…” she takes a deep breath, “do you not remember them?”

 

“Am I supposed to?”

 

His mother sighs, turning to talk to her husband in a quiet voice. They discuss something quickly before his father steps out of the room to retrieve a doctor. 

 

“Honey,” his mother says in a calm voice, reaching out with her free hand until she grabs Makki’s wrist. She tugs him forward, forcing him to stand beside her. “You remember Takahiro, right? Takahiro Hanamaki?”

 

“Um,” Matsukawa looks at Hanamaki, squinting. He narrows his eyes as he slowly surveys the ‘stranger’s’ face. He’s not sure if he could really forget someone who has pink hair. And why in the world would he forget someone as good looking at this guy? And now that he’s thinking about it, all of them are extremely good looking? What the fuck. Is he supposed to be friends with all these people? They seem too...too  _ sexy  _ to be his friends. How does he even know them? How could he even forget them? Maybe this is just some big prank. He probably doesn’t know any of them, and they’re all just trying to make a fool out of him. 

 

But when he looks up, finally meeting Pink Haired Guy With Like No Eyebrow’s eyes, he instantly flushes that idea down the toilet. He just looks so  _ scared  _ and  _ upset _ \- 

 

Is that his fault? Did he somehow make these people so upset that they openly sob in front of him?

 

“Issei,” his mother whispers, “you’ve known him since you were four years old. Your best friend?”

 

Since he was  _ four?!  _ That can’t be right. He remembers when he was a little tyke on the playground. But he always...played alone? No one ever wanted to hang out with him. He’d definitely remember the person who took it upon themselves to befriend him. He wouldn’t just forget them?

 

“So?” his mother asks, hope shining in her eyes. He hates that he’s going to be the cause of that hope shriveling up. 

 

“No,” he mumbles, “I’m sorry, I have no idea who any of these people are.” 

 

Hanamaki looks away, and Matsukawa feels guilt spread through his veins as a tear slips down Hanamaki’s cheek. 

  
  
He opens his mouth to apologize for whatever he did, but that’s when the doctor steps in. She takes one look around the room before she turns to Iwaizumi, politely asking him and the other two to step out. Hanamaki opens his mouth to protest, but Oikawa grabs his hand, giving him a Look to warn him before he says something he’ll regret. He quickly closes his mouth, letting Oikawa drag him out of the room. 

 

When they finally leave, the doctor steps up to Matsukawa with a kind smile. She calmly asks his parents to step aside, taking the spot where his mother was just standing. Before asking any questions, she quickly checks all his injuries, making sure that everything is in order and okay. After about ten minutes of doing that, she finally turns her gaze to meet Matsukawa’s, clearing her throat. 

 

“So, Matsukawa-kun, can you tell me the last thing you remember?” 

 

“Um,” Matsukawa scratches his chin, looking up at the ceiling as he runs through all his memories. “I don’t really know?” he admits in a quiet voice, nervously playing with his fingers. 

 

“Are you sure?” the doctor asks, voice gentle and calm as she looks at Matsukawa. When Matsukawa nods a moment later, she jots something down. “Now, can you tell me, if possible, what you can’t or can remember of your life?” 

 

“Um...everything up till high school is crystal clear. High school, though? I..” he squints, narrowing his eyes as if that will help him remember, “I...can’t even remember what high school I went to? But, um, let’s see...at the moment I’m living in an apartment with...someone? Maybe? I know i’m currently attending university, and I have a job…” he trails off again, biting down on his bottom lip. He can’t remember anything else. 

 

“Okay, thank you,” the doctor says, moving to place a hand on his shoulder. “If you don’t mind me asking, I was told you have known Hanamaki-san since you were a child? Are you sure you don’t remember him?”

 

Hanamaki? Who..? “Um, seeing as how I have no idea who you’re talking about...I think it’s safe to say that yes, I’m sure.” 

 

“The guy in the hallway? The pink hair? Issei, you  _ have  _ to remember him!” his mother suddenly exclaims, throwing her hands into the air. 

 

“I-I’m sorry? I- Who? That guy who was just in here? I- mom, please-”

 

“Okay, that’s all, Matsukawa-kun. Thank you. Why don’t you get some sleep?” The doctor quickly intervenes, shooting his parents a warning glare. 

 

She says a quick goodbye to Matsukawa before ushering the parents out into the hallway. When the small group of adults walk out, they quickly find the other three sitting on the bench outside the room. 

 

Hanamaki sits, squeezing Iwaizumi’s hand. Oikawa is actually sitting in Hanamaki’s lap, arms wrapped around his waist as he hides his face in the crook of Hanamaki’s neck. It’s obvious from the shaking of his shoulders that he’s currently crying. Hanamaki’s other arm wraps loosely around Oikawa, rubbing soothing circles into his back. Iwaizumi uses his other hand to cover his eyes, trying to hide the fact that he too is crying. Hanamaki just stares forward, eyes void of any emotion as he comforts his boyfriends. 

 

The doctor feels kind of weird for having to witness something as personal as this, but it’s not like she doesn’t see these kinds of things every day. Matsukawa’s mom, though,  had no problem with stomping over and ruining whatever moment they are currently having. Hanamaki snaps out of his daze, tightening his grip on both his boyfriends in a silent challenge for her to say anything about them.

 

Instead, Matsukawa’s mother huffs, looking back towards the doctor. 

 

With a polite smile, the doctor walks up to them. “So,” she starts, gaining the attention of both Iwaizumi and Oikawa. Oikawa doesn’t move his face, only tilts his head slightly to hear better. Iwaizumi looks up, holding Hanamaki’s hand tightly. 

 

“I’m sorry to inform you all, but it really does seem that he has forgotten you three. Not just you three, but  large parts of his life beginning with  high school as well. He told me he does not remember what high school he attended. I find it strange that he doesn’t remember Hanamaki-san-” Iwaizumi squeezes his hand even tighter, “-since they’ve known each other for quite some time. But, it seems, him forgetting Hanamaki-san could be tied to something personal.  I’m not going to dig into your personal lives or anything, but it is sometimes the case that personal emotional matters can affect the way in which memory loss manifests. If you three are particularly close to Matsukawa-san, it’s not unprecedented that his memories pertaining to you have been lost.”

 

“But why?”  Iwaizumi can’t stop the words from leaving his lips in a broken sob.

 

The doctor shrugs helplessly. “Amnesia is still only partially well-understood. I can’t say for sure why Matsukawa-san has lost or retained particular memories. But if there was emotional trauma surrounding the physical trauma, it has been documented that both contribute to the state of the amnesic syndrome,” she explains gently.

 

_ Emotional trauma. _

 

Hanamaki pales, eyes growing wide. Is he breathing? He doesn’t think he is. Oh, god, this is  _ his  _ fault. The fight is why Matsukawa  doesn’t remember- doesn’t  _ want _ to remember. He is the one who suggested they talk to him about it. He-

  
Oikawa suddenly pulls back, grabbing Hanamaki’s face with his hands. “Taka, you need to breathe,” he whispers. 

 

Hanamaki’s wide, panicked eyes meet Oikawa’s red rimmed ones. He inhales a shaky breath, giving Oikawa a wobbly smile. “S-Sorry-”

 

“Don’t be,” he insists, glancing back at the doctor. “You can continue now, please,” he says, turning back to look at Hanamaki. He quickly glances at Iwaizumi, reaching out to take his free hand. Iwaizumi smiles tightly as a thanks. 

 

“Well,” the doctor says, “ as I said, amnesia is a tricky thing; we’re not exactly sure what the damage can do. It’s different in many cases.  Unfortunately, all we can do is proceed in whatever way Matsukawa-san is most comfortable with.  That’s all the information I have at the moment, but I hope it’s enough for now.” And with a small bow and goodbye, she turns on her heel and quickly walks away. 

 

Hanamaki stares over Oikawa’s shoulder, eyes glued to the wall in front of him. Matsukawa’s parents begin to talk between themselves, stepping away from them so they can talk privately. Iwaizumi glares at the ground, grinding his teeth together in anger as he lets go of both Hanamaki and Oikawa’s hands. Oikawa slumps against Hanamaki again, nuzzling against the crook of Hanamaki’s neck as he tries to calm himself down. 

 

But Makki suddenly hears nothing. All he hears is the same thought like a song on repeat. 

 

_ It’s your fault; all your fault. He forgot all of you and it’s all your fault. You fucked up. It’s _ **_all your fault._ **

 

All he sees is the wall in front of him. All he feels is Oikawa’s nails digging into his back as he tightens his grip on him. All he tastes is the bile rising in his throat. 

 

What is the point anymore? Matsukawa doesn’t remember him. If he does remember him, he’ll remember the fight and get mad. He’ll just leave him. Hanamaki isn’t sure which is better- Matsukawa forgetting him or Matsukawa remembering him and choosing to hate him. 

 

Matsukawa’s mother suddenly pulls him out of his pity party. “Did you do something to our son?” she shoots towards Iwaizumi. 

 

Hanamaki tenses up, mouth going dry. ‘ _ No,’  _ he wants to say, ‘ _ it was me. Don’t blame Hajime-’ _

 

“Y-yes,” Iwaizumi chokes out, not even glancing at Hanamaki. 

 

Hanamaki holds back a sob as Matsukawa’s mom scowls, eyes filling with pure hatred. And all at once, he remembers the cruel words he had spat at Matsukawa-  _ “Haven’t you had enough alone time these past few weeks?!”- _ and then he suddenly understands. 

 

He hurt Matsukawa. So much. He should’ve never said those words. This is  _ his  _ fault- not Hajime’s.

 

He deserves to be forgotten. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the part at the end with the doctor explaining what's happening to Matsukawa about the memory problem in the hall, Rose helped me a lot with that part because I'm bad at making people sound professional so ye credit to that small part goes to Rose c:   
> But yeah I hope you enjoyed this chapter! (╯✧∇✧)╯


	4. A Nightmare on Repeat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iwaizumi and Oikawa accept the news numbly. Hanamaki, at least, puts up a bit of a fight.
> 
> “Please, just, let us help Issei move out,” he pleads. “Maybe, if he’s in a familiar environment and around us and our things, _our apartment_ —”
> 
> “I’m sorry, Takahiro,” Matsukawa’s mother interrupts firmly, “but I don’t want to make Issei uncomfortable.” Hanamaki opens his mouth to respond but she cuts him off by continuing, “I don’t want him to feel like you’re pressuring him into a relationship that, as far he knows, he’s not a part of.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank all of our readers for your patience in waiting for this chapter. I apologize that it has taken so very long to write it and I hope that I don't have to make you wait so long again. I have been struggling with my health for the better part of this year, and it has been very difficult to write, but with time, perseverance, and support, I've been able to write this chapter. I hope it doesn't disappoint; thank you again for being patient and sticking with us, your support means the world.
> 
> I also need to give a huge thanks to Jamie, who has been so patient and supportive throughout all of this. It would have been easy and understandable for her to get impatient and rush me to get this written, or take it over herself, but she has been so understanding and never once said anything negative. She has emphasized that this fic is a collaboration, and said writing a chapter that I was designated to write would "feel like stealing." She always wanted me to put my health first, and even when people have sent her messages asking about updating this fic, she has defended me and encouraged me to take whatever time I needed, without any pressure or negativity. So thank you, Jamie, for being a great cowriter and friend.

Iwaizumi and Oikawa accept the news numbly. Hanamaki, at least, puts up a bit of a fight.

“Please, just, let us help Issei move out,” he pleads. “Maybe, if he’s in a familiar environment and around us and our things, _our apartment_ —”

“I’m sorry, Takahiro,” Matsukawa’s mother interrupts firmly, “but I don’t want to make Issei uncomfortable.” Hanamaki opens his mouth to respond but she cuts him off by continuing, “I don’t want him to feel like you’re pressuring him into a relationship that, as far he knows, he’s not a part of.”

Iwaizumi makes a strangled noise behind Hanamaki. Hanamaki himself feels like he’s been punched in the gut. The feeling is so familiar by now that it only registers as a dull pain in the back of his mind. He slumps in defeat.

“Yeah,” he says hollowly, “yeah, okay. Thanks...thanks for looking out for him. Take care of him.”

Matsukawa’s mother sighs. “Look,” she says, her face softening, “he’s willing to get to know you again. But he needs some time, some space. Right now, you’re a complete stranger to him. He needs to recover on a basic level before he can even begin to consider confronting more...complex things.”

Hanamaki nods, horrified by the feeling of relief that washes through him. _I’m relieved that my..._ He stumbles over the terminology. He can’t really say that Matsukawa is his boyfriend right now, not when he doesn’t even know who he is, but Hanamaki can’t bring himself to think _ex-boyfriend,_ either. _...that Issei is willing to ‘get to know me’ again._

Hanamaki feels like he’s lost the last sixteen years of his life. Sixteen years of his life spent with someone he loves so deeply, who seems...as if he doesn’t exist anymore. And what if he _doesn’t_ exist anymore? What if the Matsukawa Issei that Hanamaki Takahiro grew up with and fell in love with—is gone? If he’s changed so much that he can’t remember the three of them, his personality has probably changed as well.

Hanamaki’s breath catches in his throat.

_I don’t know Issei._

The thought feels foreign. Wrong. Very, very wrong.

He can’t breathe.

“Tooru,” he gasps, “your favorite food is milk bread.”

Oikawa tilts his head, looking at Hanamaki with confusion and concern. “Yes?”

“Hajime,” Hanamaki continues, “you can only sleep on your stomach.”

Iwaizumi’s brows furrow between his slightly reddened eyes. “Hiro, are you okay?” he asks anxiously.

“Right?” Hanamaki asks frantically, ignoring Iwaizumi’s question. “You can only sleep if you’re lying on your stomach, and you love Godzilla, and...”

“Hiro, calm down,” Oikawa says gently, placing his hands on Hanamaki’s shoulders. “What is this about?”

Hanamaki looks up into Oikawa’s eyes. “I don’t know who Issei is,” he whispers. His voice breaks and he chokes on his next words. “I don’t know him anymore.”

 

* * *

 

They arrive home and Hanamaki immediately wants to turn and walk back out the door. It’s his first time back to the apartment since… And every square inch of the apartment is covered in reminders of Matsukawa. There’s his jacket, hanging by the door—the one he took off right before they attacked him and drove him out of the apartment. Their apartment. His textbooks on the table, his plants on the windowsill, pictures of them— _all four of them, together—_ on the walls and tables and Hanamaki’s vision blurs.

He feels sick.

He doesn’t so much as glance at his and Matsukawa’s shared room, opting instead to head straight for Oikawa and Iwaizumi’s and bury his head in their pillows. His boyfriends wordlessly follow him, slipping in on either side of him. They hold each other tightly until they finally fall asleep.

 

* * *

 

_Hanamaki sighs deeply and runs a hand over his head as he makes his way towards the cafe where he knows his boyfriends will be waiting for him. The first day back at classes had been even harder than he thought it would be, and all he wants to do is unwind over a hot cup of coffee with Oikawa and Iwaizumi and..._

_No._

_Just with Oikawa and Iwaizumi._

_Hanamaki’s heart feels heavy as he pushes open the door, but it lightens slightly when he sees Oikawa and Iwaizumi smiling at each other across a booth towards the back of the cafe. He allows a small smile to cross his face as he approaches them. “Hey.”_

_They both look up at him in surprise. “Um, hi,” Oikawa replies, flashing his signature smile and Hanamaki_ hates _that it makes his heart beat a little faster. But his pulse abruptly stops when Oikawa speaks again. “Can we help you?”_

_Hanamaki laughs nervously. “Well, I was hoping to have a nice cup of coffee with my boyfriends after a stressful day?” he tries, unsure of what Oikawa’s trying to do._

_“Oh…” Oikawa blinks in confusion, then nods politely. “Well, I hope they get here soon then!” He turns back to Iwaizumi with wide eyes. Iwaizumi shrugs._

_Something catches in Hanamaki’s chest. He can’t breathe. “Guys,” he chokes out, “this isn’t funny.”_

_Iwaizumi turns to scowl at him, but his face almost instantly relaxes and a grin spreads across his face. Hanamaki is about to let out a sigh of relief and ask them_ what the hell _when Iwaizumi speaks._

_“Issei!”_

_Hanamaki freezes._ What the hell—

_“Hey, gorgeous,” comes a warm, familiar voice from behind him. Hanamaki whips around, and he has to blink a few times to confirm that he’s really there, Matsukawa is really there, walking towards them with an easy stride and a relaxed smile on his face._

_“Issei,” he breathes._

_Matsukawa stops short and stares at him in surprise, his eyes flicking towards Oikawa and Iwaizumi behind him before coming back to rest on Hanamaki’s face. “I’m sorry, do we know each other?” he asks in a startled voice._

_Hanamaki’s chest feels like it’s caving in around his heart. He had been so hopeful, so sure—_

_“Mattsun, just sit down, this guy has been bothering us for a while now,” Oikawa says snidely, sliding over so Matsukawa can sit next to him._

This guy.

Bothering us.

_Hanamaki can’t breathe._

_“Look, I’m sorry if you were expecting something from us,” Iwaizumi adds, “but we don’t know you. You should probably just go find your boyfriends.”_

We don’t know you.

_“No,” Hanamaki gasps. His vision is starting to blur and the room spins as he collapses to his knees. He can’t breathe, can’t see, can’t hear, all of his senses have gone dark and all there’s left to do is to_ feel _, drowning in pain as he screams_ no, no, no—

 

* * *

 

Hanamaki wakes up with a gasp, shaking and drenched in sweat. The bed is cool and empty on either side of him and he tries not to panic, pressing the palms of his hands to his eyes and trying to take deep breaths. _It was just a dream,_ he tries to tell his racing heart, _it was just a dream._ His brain isn’t very convincing.

“Hajime?” he calls in a small voice. “Tooru?”

Oikawa immediately pops in through the doorway and hurries to wrap his arms around Hanamaki. “I’m sorry,” he says quietly, “we didn’t think you would wake up yet.”

Hanamaki lets out a broken sob. “I… nightmare,” he gasps. Iwaizumi enters the room and sits down on the bed heavily.

Oikawa rubs Hanamaki’s shoulder soothingly. “I’m so sorry, Hiro,” he says quietly. “It’s okay. You’re safe.”

Hanamaki nods, holding on to Oikawa tightly to help convince himself of that fact. “I’m sorry,” he whispers.

“’S nothing to apologize for,” Iwaizumi murmurs, taking one of Hanamaki’s hands in his.

Hanamaki dries his eyes and squints at the clock. It’s 2:30 in the morning. “What were you guys doing up?” he asks tiredly.

Oikawa and Iwaizumi exchange glances and Hanamaki eyes them nervously. “What?”

Oikawa looks pleadingly at Iwaizumi, who heaves a sigh. “Wouldn’t it be better to discuss it in the morning?” he asks in a strained voice.

Hanamaki sits up straighter and looks at them uncertainly. “It _is_ the morning,” he replies stubbornly, a little desperately.

“When we’re all more _awake?”_ Iwaizumi emphasizes, but his shoulders are already slumped in defeat.

“Hajime, please, I can’t do this right now,” Hanamaki pleads, because he really can’t. He can’t have any secrets right now, not with them, not with the only two people left in his life. “Please,” he whispers.

Iwaizumi hesitates, then sighs. “Tooru and I were just discussing the _possibility..._ ” He bites his lip. “...that, maybe, if it’s just you, Issei will...could start to remember.”

Hanamaki lets the implication of his words sink in.

Oikawa sees the look on his face and scrambles to continue. “It’s just, we know how Issei’s parents feel about us and, they won’t let us get close to him but they’d let _you_ ,” he explains pleadingly. “And since you’ve known each other for longer...maybe his memories would come back faster...and maybe...” His eyes are shining and he chokes, “Maybe he could remember us, too.”

“We just want him back, and we were thinking...maybe this would be the best way,” Iwaizumi finishes.

Hanamaki hardly hears him. He’s getting tunnel vision and it feels like déjà vu—

_This guy has been bothering us for a while now._

Hanamaki’s breath catches in his chest.

“You want me to leave.” His voice sounds strange and detached.

Oikawa’s breath hitches. “ _No,_ Makki, we don’t—”

“You don’t...want me here,” he continues in the same robotic voice. His expression is blank. He doesn’t know if he feels everything at once or nothing at all.

“ _Takahiro,_ no, that’s not it at all!” Oikawa cries. “We _love_ you, Hiro. We love you and we want you here, we _need_ you and it was so hard to suggest this because _we don’t want to leave you._ But we just...we just...we need Issei too, and we _know_ you need him, and we thought maybe this would be something that _you_ would want.” Tears are shining in his eyes as he leans forward, imploring Hanamaki to believe him. “But please...if that’s not what you want to do...please stay with us.”

“Please, Hiro,” Iwaizumi adds breathlessly.

Hanamaki starts to cry. “I don’t want to leave you,” he sobs.

“Then don’t,” Oikawa says firmly, squeezing his hand. “Stay with us. We’ll stay together and figure something out. It’ll all work out.”

Iwaizumi sweeps them both into a crushing hug and suddenly they’re all crying together. But no matter how tightly they hold each other, there’s still an achingly empty space that they can’t even begin to imagine how to fill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [[title insp](http://lyrics.wikia.com/wiki/Kamelot:Insomnia)]


	5. When you took it all you forgot your shadow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matsukawa's parents come over to retrieve all of Issei's belongings, and the other three are torn apart when the apartment loses a fourth of its belongings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Throws myself off a cliff*  
> I DID IT  
> I'm so happy I did it  
> Thank you to everyone sticking with this story so far it means a lot, so I hope you enjoy this chapter! 
> 
> Title is from 'Shadow' by Sam Tsui

Iwaizumi grips the back of the couch, fingers curling against it. He grinds his teeth together, blocking out the movement he can see on both sides. Everything is falling apart bit by bit, tiny little pieces floating down until it collapses all at once. 

 

The misunderstanding. The fight. Matsukawa running off. Hanamaki moving first, racing after him. Oikawa, then him, following. The car. The sound of Mattsun’s body hitting the ground. Hanamaki screaming. The ambulance, the ride to the hospital. The surgery. The long hours. The coma. The days going by slowly until they all became emotionally drained. The team. Matsukawa waking up. Everything looking better--

 

But then...the forgetting. The crying. The empty space in the bed. The untouched mug, the missing deep voice.

 

All of that leads up to right now. 

 

“M-Matsukawa-san  _ please _ ,” Oikawa sobs, fingers wrapped around the too-big hoodie he was wearing that morning. The woman looks up at him through her eyelashes, eyes narrowed dangerously. Without a word, she yanks the hoodie away from his hands and stuffs it into one of the boxes. 

 

“Issei needs  _ all  _ his stuff, or there will be questions.”

 

“He won't miss just one!”

 

Matsukawa’s mom whips her head around, stepping up close to Oikawa. “You will not tell me what's right and not right for my son.”

 

“I  _ wasn't--”  _

 

Hanamaki quickly steps forward, harshly pushing Matsukawa’s mother away. He then grabs the hoodie, and hands it to Oikawa, all while frowning at the older woman. Oikawa instantly hugs the fabric to his body, eyes watering. 

 

“Takahiro!” Matsukawa-san says, staring at him with betrayal. Before she can continue, Hanamaki cuts her off. 

 

“He got it last year,” he explains, glancing at Iwaizumi. “...got it from...from Hajime. He won't--...he won't remember…owning...it.”

 

Iwaizumi hangs his head, eyes squeezing closed. He’s sure he will collapse if he lets go of the couch now. 

 

“Honey!” Matsukawa’s mother calls out, lifting the last box they had just been packing. “Time to go!”

 

The tall man stumbles in, another box in his arms. He looks over Oikawa and Iwaizumi, his eyes landing on Hanamaki. “You can visit whenever you feel like it, alright? You're always part of our family.”

 

Hanamaki looks down, not daring to look at them or his boyfriends. He has no idea what he should say to that.  _ Thank you, but I don't want to go without Hajime and Tooru?  _ Or  _ Thank you, I'll keep that in mind.  _ Or,  _ thanks, but fuck the fuck off?  _

 

He's not sure, so he stays quiet instead. 

 

He hears the sound of them walking away, the door closing behind them. He waits, and waits, and waits. 

 

That's when Iwaizumi finally collapses to his knees, fingers sliding down the back of the couch. He chokes on a sob, his back arching as he curls in on himself. Oikawa and Hanamaki glance at each other, and then they’re by his side in an instant. 

 

Oikawa gently rubs his back, desperately choking back his own tears. Hanamaki pulls Iwaizumi close, letting Iwaizumi bury his face in the fabric of his shirt. He doesn't care if it gets ruined, really. Oikawa then shuffles forward, his hand still resting comfortingly on Iwaizumi’s back. 

 

The sight of their pillar breaking, sobs violently shaking his body, ripping through his throat, brings both of them close to tears. He sounds so broken, and it tears their hearts to shreds. It doesn't take long for Oikawa to slip, a tear sliding down his cheek and dripping to the floor. Then there's another, and another, until he hides his face in his hands and cries out.

 

Hanamaki wordlessly opens one arm, keeping the other around Iwaizumi. He tugs Oikawa to his side, letting the brunette hide in the crook of his neck. Tears stain his shirt and his shoulder, but he doesn't care as he desperately tries to comfort his boyfriends.

 

He doesn't shed a single tear, because right now, he needs to be there for them. 

 

* * *

 

 

Hanamaki sits on the couch, eyes staring blankly at the TV. There's some show on, but he can't focus on it. It hurts, because usually he’d be pressed against Matsukawa’s side as they watch the history channel. He was the only one who was willing to watch it with him, but now he's gone and he has no one next to him, holding his hand and pressing feather-like kisses to his head as he slowly sinks away to sleep. 

 

He gasps as the couch sinks, telling him someone is settling down next to him. He feels like a fool when he lifts his head, fully expecting Matsukawa. He's not disappointed, because it's Iwaizumi, but he still can't help but feel the aching hole in his chest throb. 

 

“Hey,” Iwaizumi whispers, throwing his arm to the side. Hanamaki instantly slides across the cushions, clinging to Iwaizumi’s side. Iwaizumi’s arm wraps around him, pulling him closer. 

 

It's warm. It's nice. He can't help but smile, pulling away so that he can lay down, head resting on Iwaizumi’s lap. Iwaizumi chuckles softly, his fingers brushing through Hanamaki’s short locks. 

 

“Get some sleep,” he mumbles, smiling softly as Hanamaki curls up, scooting closer to him. He says something unintelligible, eyes fluttering close. When he finally falls asleep, Iwaizumi lets out a deep sigh. 

 

This is nice, cuddling and watching boring documentaries together-- it’s like a bandaid being placed over the wound. But even bandaids can fall off, revealing the ugly wound beneath. 

 

* * *

 

Oikawa stands in the kitchen, eyes watering at he looks into the cupboard. There's plenty of mugs and cups, yeah.

 

But Matsukawa’s is missing. They took it. They took  _ all  _ his stuff. 

 

Slowly closing the cupboard, he finds that he isn't thirsty anymore. He steps out of the kitchen, ignoring the over-piled dishes lying uncleaned in the sink. No one has the energy to worry about that yet. 

 

When he ventures into the living room, he bites his bottom lip. It sends a small spark of warmth through his veins as he sees Iwaizumi leaning backwards against the couch, sleeping. Hanamaki is curled up in his lap, sleeping as well. 

 

He moves, going to grab the blanket they always use for these situations. But then he freezes. It's gone. 

 

That was Matsukawa’s, too. 

 

He takes a deep, shuddering breath. He’s okay, he’ll be okay. He just needs to go to bed, or else he’ll keep on noticing these small things. 

 

When he walks into the bathroom, the cold tile biting at his bare feet, he stares at the empty space that used to belong to Matsukawa’s stuff. His toothbrush is gone, his comb, everything. He averts his gaze, violently brushing his teeth and slipping out of the room. 

 

He carelessly opens the drawers in the bedroom, and it's like a slap in the face when he ends up opening one of the now empty ones. He hangs his head, fingernails digging into his palms. Keeping the tears back, he slams the drawer shut and throws on random pajamas. 

 

Then he stops. Lying on the bed is the one thing of Matsukawa’s they got to keep. Gently picking it up, he brings it up to his nose and inhales the scent that only belongs to Matsukawa. He doesn't hesitate to pull the hoodie over his head, slipping into the bed. 

 

He hasn't slept alone in so long. There's always someone with him...but..now…

 

Pulling the blanket up around himself, he hides under it and curls into a ball. He pulls the hood over his head, and lets his eyes slide close. 

  
Wearing the hoodie, the scent enveloping him, he can pretend it's actually Matsukawa he’s sleeping next to. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All By Myself plays in the background as Oikawa sleeps
> 
> Tumblrs: agedashi-tooru & seijouho

**Author's Note:**

> I want to say sorry
> 
> Jamie's tumblr: [@seijouho](http://seijouho.tumblr.com)  
> Rose's tumblr: [@agedashi-tooru](http://agedashi-tooru.tumblr.com)


End file.
